


Merry Meet

by rebekahdarian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 2019, Alive Claudia, Alive Hale Family, Attempt at happy fluff, Emissary!Stiles, M/M, Returning Home, Sheriff is John but he's not really in the fic, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spark!Stiles, Sterek Secret Santa, coffee shop AU, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebekahdarian/pseuds/rebekahdarian
Summary: He smiled. “Hey, Uncle Peter. I hit one of the potholes on Main and apparently a spare tire is extra in the car rental industry.” He chuckled. “But, uh, yeah, I’m in the parking lot outside-” he squinted at the closest sign on the building. “Merry Meet Coffee and Tea, if you wouldn’t mind picking me up when you wake up, that’d be great. Thank you!”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 611
Collections: The Sterek Secret Santa - Edition 2019





	Merry Meet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vyxyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyxyn/gifts).



> Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy :)

Beacon Hills, it seemed, hadn’t changed at all. It took Derek twenty minutes to make it from the airport to the town limit. He watched as the buildings of the bustling city merged seamlessly into trees; their long shadows cast against the road from the occasional streetlight. 

If he tried hard enough, he could smell the familiar scent of _home_ through the dirty air filter of the rental car. 

The car lurched as it hit the first pothole. 

Derek smiled at the familiarity. He could still hear his mother cursing up a storm when she had hit the same one and got a flat tire. He and Laura had been stranded in the back seat with nothing but a yo-yo to keep themselves amused as she tried to figure out how to put on the spare.

No matter how many times the darn pothole was paved, it came back each year with a vengeance and had become an unfortunate landmark amongst the Beacon Hill community.

He merged onto the main street. 

It was still dark this early in the early morning. The redeye flight had been the only one available on short notice. His eyes burned, but the thrill of _home_ kept him going.

It’d been a long time since he last drove these streets. Four years at a university in New York with mainly phone calls and Skype to keep in contact with his family. Of course, they all came out to see him graduate last spring, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Laura had stayed with him for a couple weeks a few years back. He had showed her around the city, taken her to all his favorite places, and even some that weren’t his favorites but that he thought she’d enjoy. She liked the city in a distant sort of way, saying that it was pretty but not for her, and that she was needed back home.

He flexed his fingers around the unfamiliar wheel of the car.

Laura’s trip was the first time he’d heard about their new emissary, Stiles. She told him he was nice, and friendly with a mischievous streak a mile wide that kept everyone on their toes. She was supposed to spend time with him since she was to be the next alpha. She needed to trust him and his judgement, and he her. 

He was looking forward to meeting this new person. Having been born and raised out here he felt like he knew everyone, at least in passing. But the name _Stiles_ didn’t ring any bells. And no one in his family elaborated on who exactly he was.

He smiled, gently weaving between a string of potholes, proud of himself for remembering where they were. Maybe he could save a little bit of damage to the poor car.

The clock on the dash flicked to the hour. 4am. 

He tapped his thumbs against the wheel.

The pack wouldn’t be awake yet. Even Peter wouldn’t be up for another hour. But, he supposed, that just meant he’d have time to unpack in peace before getting ambushed with attention. Cora was convinced he was bringing her something back from New York.

He smiled, imagining her face when she opened the bag containing a T-shirt stating that someone who loved her went to New York and only brought back “this shirt”. 

He passed the high school on his right. It looked the same, yet off at the same time. He squinted for just a second longer as he placed the oddity; the building had been extended. He could see the off color brick where the new portion started.

Just past the school, a building complex came into view. This one hadn’t been there when he was here last. He frowned, trying to make out which signs were posted above the doors when the car lurched.

Derek swore, gripping the wheel and jerking it to keep the car straight.

The steady thumping of a flat tire filled the air.

He slapped the hazzards, pulling into the parking lot of the complex he’d been examining.

The cruel irony made him grimace. He sat, listening to the hum of the engine and the chirping of crickets. He’d have to put on the spare.

He tugged the key from the ignition and brushed his thumb across the soulmark on his left wrist. It was a habit he’d developed when the mark appeared, a romantic at heart, the slight touch calmed him, reminding him that someone special was out there, somewhere. It was a couple shades lighter than his skin tone, the triple spirals he knew represented him were tucked inside an explosion of lines, each one fanning outward in a different direction. He used to call it a firework.

The mark had appeared when he was sixteen, like it did almost everyone else in the world, and he would be blatantly lying if he ever said he hadn’t hoped of meeting his soulmate in New York. Beacon Hills seemed like too small of a place to meet anyone that significant, and a part of him believed by moving to a bigger city the chances of running into them were greater. But here now, nearly ten years later, he still hadn’t met them. Which was fine, he supposed, some people didn’t meet their soulmates until they were older. His mom was in her thirties when she met hers.

He opened the car door, stepping out into the cold air. Whoever his soulmate was probably wasn’t out at this hour anyway and he wanted to get home.

He walked to the back of the car and popped the trunk, levering out his rolling suitcase so he could access the compartment that held the spare. He lifted the flap, and stared into the empty space. 

The jack was where it should be, tucked away in the crevice that looked designed to hold it, the tool to loosen the bolts was also there, and even some reflective cones. But there was no tire.

He sighed and tugged his phone from his pocket. He didn’t want to wake anyone up, he’d specifically told them all that he was familiar with the area and was more than capable of driving himself home. He glared at the back tire. 

With only a second’s hesitation, he called Peter. He frowned as the phone continued to ring. More than likely Peter had his phone on Do Not Disturb. Even the gentle vibration of phones would wake any of them up, but Peter was usually up before sunrise anyway and would get the message soon enough. If he were desperate, he could always walk.

The phone kicked him to voicemail, Peter’s voice told him to leave a message if it was something that couldn’t be sent through text. 

He smiled. “Hey, Uncle Peter. I hit one of the potholes on Main and apparently a spare tire is extra in the car rental industry.” He chuckled. “But, uh, yeah, I’m in the parking lot outside-” he squinted at the closest sign on the building. “Merry Meet Coffee and Tea, if you wouldn’t mind picking me up when you wake up, that’d be great. Thank you!”

He hung up and looked back at the sign. Merry Meet Coffee and Tea was new, and the blue and red neon sign proclaimed they were open. Sitting inside and drinking coffee sure beat sitting in the car for an hour.

He loaded his luggage back into the trunk and shut it, then began his way across the lot. 

A bell tied to the inside handle jingled when he pushed the door open.

The cafe was simple with a woodsy feel. Wooden tables sat scattered throughout the room, their legs twisting and reaching out and down to the floor like tree roots. The tall back chairs were styled similarly. Plants hung from holders on the ceiling, and a few paintings of forest scenery decorated the walls.

It was a fitting theme for Beacon Hills.

A short haired young man looked up from a stack of books at a corner table. His brow twitched just slightly as he tried to orientate himself back to his surroundings, having been yanked from his thoughts at Derek’s entry. 

“Hello,” he greeted from habit. Then his expression lightened and he smiled, rising from his seat. “What can I get for you?” He left his books on the table, careful to check the page number of the book he was on before closing it. 

Derek watched as he made his way around the counter and over to the register. He could now see the small logo of a tree and the name of the shop embroidered on the chest of his shirt. 

“Just a cup of black coffee, please.” Derek smiled, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He handed over his debit card and looked around again. “This is a nice shop, it wasn’t here last time I was in town.”

“It’s my mom’s, I help her out sometimes and come in early.” The young man swiped his card, then looked back at him. “Where are you from?”

“Here.” Derek smiled, watching the way the man’s eyes narrowed in thought as he tried to place who Derek was. “I was born and raised here, but I’ve been studying in New York for the last four years. I’m Derek Hale.”

The man’s eyes widened sightly in surprise, then a smile lit his face. “I can see that now. I knew you back in grade school.”

Now it was Derek’s turn to frown; grade school had been a long time ago. 

The grin slowly widened across his face. “Back then I went by Mischief.”

“Scott’s friend!” Derek announced, sudden memories of the two boys hanging out with Cora coming back to him. They had come to a few of her birthday parties, and if he remembered correctly, had been suspended together at some point for disrupting class with a prank on April Fools Day.

“That’s me,” Mischief grinned, reaching down to grab a cup.

“How’s your mom doing?” Derek asked, stepping down the length of the counter out of habit; it wasn’t like there was anyone behind him. 

“She’s great! She’ll actually be in shortly, I have a class that starts at seven.” He grabbed the carafe and filled the cup. “She’s excited to see you again. The whole pack’s excited you’re home.”

Derek nodded. “I’m excited to be home.”

Claudia had been Talia’s emissary since before he was born; the two had been childhood friends growing up and once Claudia came into her spark it seemed only natural for her to take the roll.

Mischief held the cup out to him.

Derek took it, then jolted back when their fingers brushed, a shock reverberating through his soul, causing all the hair on his arms to stand on end. There, on his outstretched wrist, his soulmark flared silver. 

Mischief leapt back as well, gripping his left wrist in shock.

They stared at each other over the spilled coffee. 

“Well,” Mischief said softly, eyes still wide, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.” He uncurled his fingers, twisting his wrist to see his soulmark. 

It was the same triple spiral and firework that marked Derek’s own skin. 

“Same,” Derek nodded. He righted the cup that had fallen and tipped when they’d jerked back, and looked around, scanning the room for napkins. 

“I got it,” Mischief said. 

Derek looked back at him in time to see him raise his hands. The spilled coffee shifted, beading into hundreds of droplets, and rising into the air. He watched as they hovered across the counter to a sink and splashed inside. 

“You’re magic?” Derek asked, belatedly chastizing himself; what else could that have been? A stage trick?

“A spark.” Mischief swiped the cup off the table and into the trash, reaching for a fresh one. “Like my mom. The class I’m going to later is about control, hopefully I’ll be learning more complex spells soon, but magic is tricky.” He poured Derek a cup and reached for another for himself. “It’s like magic has a mind of its own, that’s why it takes so long to learn.”

Derek nodded. “My family just took on a new emissary, he’s supposed to be Laura’s emissary when she becomes alpha. Magic is a lot of responsibility.”

Stiles stilled, his head tilting just slightly as he set the kuraff back. “Do you know who it is?”

“No.” Derek took a tentative sip of the drink, wincing when it burned his tongue. It was good, it made the airport coffee taste like swamp water. “I didn’t recognize his name, and I’m pretty sure I know everyone in Beacon Hills. He probably moved here recently.”

Mischief chuckled. “What’s his name?” He stepped out from behind the counter, motioning Derek over to his table of books. 

“Stiles. Do you know him?” 

Mischief’s eyes gleamed. “I’d like to think I do.”

“You’re close then?” Derek asked, ready to seize the moment and ask about what his family’s new emissary was like. 

“Oh yeah.” Mischief stacked his books and placed them on the table behind them. “Scott and Cora are friends with him.”

“What’s he like?”

Mischief hummed. “I think he’s pretty smart, and clever. According to Laura sometimes sarcastic.” He sipped his coffee. “You planning on staying in town just long enough to meet him?”

Derek shook his head, running his thumb along the leaf pattern on the cup. “I’m home for good now. Living out there was a good experience, but I’d like to be home for a little while now.”

Mischief nodded, setting his cup down. “I’ve thought about traveling.”

Derek looked up quickly. He wouldn’t dare ask his soulmate to not pursue his dreams, but the thought of him leaving soon after meeting stung. He wanted a chance to get to know him. He made sure to keep his voice even when he asked, “Why don’t you?”

“I’ve got a lot of things going on here. Someday I’ll travel, but for now I’m happy learning magic here.” He smiled, flashing just a hint of teeth.

Derek relaxed, relief flooding him, quickly followed by guilt at his reaction. If Mischief wanted to travel, he could damn well travel. Maybe Derek could even go with him.

The jingle of the bell made both of them look up. 

A lady walked in, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“Hi Mom,” Mischief said, then motioned at Derek. “Derek’s back.”

Claudia’s eyes lit up, a smile creasing her face. She stepped up to the table, wrapping Derek into a warm hug. “Welcome home.” She released him and turned to Mischief, hugging him as well. When she was done, she looked back at Derek. “You’re mom invited Stiles and I over for a pack dinner tonight, but if you don’t feel up to it let us know and we can do it another night.”

Derek nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be fine after a nap, I just had an incident with the rental car and that slowed me down getting home.” He smiled. “It’ll be nice to meet him.”

Claudia frowned, casting a glance at Mischief, who looked up at her with total innocence. 

“Would you mind if Mischief came as well?” He turned his wrist over to expose the soulmark. “I’d like to catch up with him.”

Surprise flooded Claudia’s face, quickly replaced by a grin. “Congratulations.” She looked at Mischief, her expression dropping into a scowl. “And _you_ should have told him.”

“Told me what?” Derek asked, glancing between them in confusion.

Mischief wilted under her look. He looked up at Derek, smiling slowly. “I go by Stiles now.”

“You’re Laura’s emissary?” Derek blurted.

Mischief- no, _Stiles_ held his hands out. “Surprise?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply when the bell jingled again, and Peter stepped into the cafe. His button up shirt and slacks made it look like he was on his way to a meeting rather than to rescue his nephew from a flat tire.

“You said you could get from the airport to home without incident.” Peter frowned only half-jokingly as he crossed the room to their table.

“On any normal day, I can. I’ve had a long night, Uncle Peter, just take me home please.” Derek shook his head slowly. 

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, concern rising in his tone. 

“Of course.” Derek shrugged. “I hit one of the legion of potholes on Main, reconnected with a friend of Cora’s only to find out he’s my soulmate _and_ Laura’s emissary, and now you’re being all _Peter_. But I’m good.” He smiled, trying to joke back, but his muscles were aching and tired; the sun was now creeping through the windows and he didn’t even want to look at a clock in case it confirmed he’d been awake for over twenty four hours. He needed sleep.

“Go get some rest, I’ll see you at dinner.” Stiles rose, holding out a hand to him.

Derek stood, taking it in his own. “Looking forward to it… Mischief.” He winked and sauntered past Peter; he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be bored anytime soon.


End file.
